"what are the best albums for
the long hideously introspective
nights that come with middle age?"
"With middle age?" I retorted
"I've been getting those for a few years
back already, man"
I lined my dreams with chrome.
It's getting dark in those burning fields.
The first men who came up with a god
did so out of sheer exhaustion.
My weak frame...
they were sweating, moaning in their fevers,
beyond the circle of bonfires
lit up for protection against a night
so unmerficul,
so silent.
the crushing darkness outside
only shed light on the inside,
making it painfully evident.
Mauled by the hounds of their consciences,
the traffic's din seems like life
kniving out of reach.
They look thin and frayed,
like proven anarchy, buzzing electric but
inconsistent to the touch.
Out with the compass, done with the map,
he wanted to sail to the river birth.
In search of the ultimate hideout.
Who knows what answers he wanted to find out there.
The stifling conventions of home,
long ago lost cargo.
Now, the genuine burdens surfaced.
He discovered that the original decoys and surrogates
were not so bad, after all.
Orderly tilled fields replaced by riverbank mud.
The man is nowadays not prepared for the
replacement of certain orders and regulations.
"Your quest for the sun
is misled, motherfuckers"
belted the prophet out.
Some passersby even bother
to turn their heads around and smile.
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